


The Stars Are Out Tonight // The Passenger

by velvetgoldmine (orphan_account)



Category: 20th Century CE RPF, David Bowie (Musician), Glam Rock RPF, Iggy Pop/The Stooges, Music RPF, Punk Rock RPF
Genre: 1970s, Berlin (City), Berlin Wall, Driving, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, M/M, Rating May Change, References to Drugs, Song Lyrics, Stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 03:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/velvetgoldmine
Summary: David and Iggy enjoy a midnight drive out to the Berlin Wall.





	The Stars Are Out Tonight // The Passenger

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read this before or recognise any of it, it's because I originally posted this on my main pseud (@jaspuffin) and thought it might be better suited on here, idk. Anyway, I've made some minor alterations but it's mostly the same - enjoy!

You'd think spending an entire day writing songs with little time gaps would be tough in itself. 

Now add a Mr Brian Eno to the mix. 

Berlin is fun, good rehab for David too. But working on both Low and what felt like his twentieth album with Iggy was draining. The feeling of mental fatigue had been mutual between Jim and himself.

So who could blame the two boys for seeking some relaxation? 

Earlier that evening they enjoyed wine and local food with frightening amounts of butter on the balcony of their Berlin tender, Hauptstraße 155; seeing the sun set on the city wall and barely shadowing what lies beyond. 

"God, Dave," Jim drawled out from under his stupid beret which hid half his face. "Isn't this city just fantastic? I don't mean to sound sarcastic or nothin', I mean Europe - all this shit, is genuinely something."

David swirled his wine glass a couple times, enjoying the way the sun reflected itself on the musky red drink. "Mm. 'mean, look where I was just a few months ago, eh? Coked up in America. Tsk. Glad I came here, huh?" 

"I could second that." The midnight cuckoo rang from the kitchen window pinched Jim's attention. "Hey, you busy tonight?" 

"Take a wild guess, love," Dave glanced over smugly. "Go on?" 

"With all our time spent working our asses off at the studio, we haven't really seen the city the way it's meant to be seen, y'know? I think a Berlin sundown drive would be a nice way to top it all off."

___________________________________________________________

They got closer and closer to the wall, the road turning into rougher gravel every few yards. German punk, which in reality sounded uncannily like some early Stooges record, poured from the car speakers and for a while that was all they could hear. For a while.

"Jim."

"Yeah?" 

"Be a dear and don't fucking crash my car. I paid for it. With money. It's mine."

Iggy gave a sigh and reluctantly obeyed, making a slower turn to appease the passenger. 

"You know, Bowie, you really oughtta concentrate on something other than the road you're not driving on. Even I'm not entirely focused - not when the stars look so beautiful. Like a big, open part of space that belongs to us, huh?" 

"Oh Jim, that was lovely, and you know how space makes me feel. I suppose it's ours, innit? Made for us. I reckon it's like us, the Berlin night - beautiful and infinite."

Jim hummed in agreement, stopping with the car's nose barely touching the righteously vandalised brick. By the time he'd gotten out, David was sitting with his back against the wall, scribbling into a book. 

“Hey, I thought this was a break from writing?” Jim sighed.

“I know. But one can't really resist a bit of poetic rambling after a trip like this.”

Jim perched himself next to the Brit, spreading his knees ever so slightly. "Is it totally confidential or will ya let your old friend read it?" “Really neither, Iggy. It's not done."

Iggy's eyes landed David's."Gotcha. I could help you finish, though." He took Bowie's hand, still clutching the pen, and consequently had the book fall out of his friend's lap. 

"Damn it," David reached over with speed but Iggy had the upper hand. The American, his hand still tight against his own slim wrist, slammed his hand against the wall in place. 

With his other, Jim got hold of the book. 

Dave scoffed and tried turning his face away to hide the smirk. "Go on then, you have me tied."

And so Jim read each line, savouring the divine rhythm of each line only someone like David could produce. 

Bowie saw the glee on the man's face, as did he in return. "What're you so amused by, then, sweetheart?" 

"This, doll. Might turn this into a song, if you'd let me."

"Suppose I can't really stop you there, James."

Iggy's under-beret smile returned, and it's better than ever now that a rough mix of bare sunlight and overt moonshine lent his mouth a delicate tone. 

Iggy leaned his head against the wall softly, brown locks pressing at his ears as he lost himself in David's eyes. "Guess I was right about this night making things look the way they're meant to. For instance you look like, dunno, some German fag's dream lay."

David let out the most ridiculous chortle. "Are you kidding, Iggy? Fucking gorgeous, 's what you are." 

"Fag," Jim rolled his eyes and moved his hand to his friend's knee.

"Perhaps." With a breath through his nose, he pressed his lips against Jim's.

All they knew was that no cold nightly wind could disturb their warmth. 


End file.
